


Lost Before You're Found

by ronans



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Deaths, F/M, Ghost Dean, Haunted Object, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Old Age, Other, Should have been a relationship, Suicide, Tattoos, inked, mentioned depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's been content his whole life, a nice wife, a nice home with stability, it's just... she was never the one. In a world where soulmates have matching tattoos, Castiel just wants to find his before his time runs out.</p><p> </p><p>Based on the idea of soulmates gaining matching tattoos in this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/883717/chapters/1702404</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where Are You?

**Author's Note:**

> So I read Inked and then this came out. Credit to the tumblr post and also jensenacklesruinedmylife for the general idea of the tattoos.   
> This is not planned to be fluffy or happy at all, I'm really sorry I guess... Enjoy!

‘Amelia… If we don’t… if  _I_ don’t find my soul mate… It’s now or never,’ Castiel said, eyes glistening. His wife frowned and looked down at her hands.

‘Can’t we just-‘

‘I’m old, Amy. I’m old and if I die without knowing…’ His sentence trailed off as he shook his head. ‘Please let me find them.’

Amelia pursed her lips but reluctantly nodded. ‘Okay.’ She paused as her eyes filled with moisture. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t yours, that I was never yours.’

‘As am I,’ he replied, leaning in to kiss her wrinkled cheek. He smiled slightly before walking out of the door with his bag. He moved on trembling legs to the town centre, chest tight with anticipation; today he’d find his soul mate with the wing tattoo. He reached the correct building and entered, making a beeline for the phone hanging above a large book. He scanned through the pages until he found the number. His fingers shook as he dialled.

‘ _Hello?_ ’

‘Hi, is this Soulmate Registrations?’ Cas asked, biting his lips.

The woman sighed and responded in a monotone voice. ‘ _Yes, how can I help you?_ ’

‘I was wondering if you could look up someone for me.’

She exhaled loudly again. ‘ _Sure, that’s what I’m here for. What’s the tattoo?_ ’

‘Two black wings. They cover the entire back,’ he said, grinning in anticipation. He knew he’d find the person; everyone had to register once they’d gained their tattoo, it just happened that he’d just met and married Amelia before his had appeared.

‘ _Bear with me_ ,’ the woman replied before the line appeared to go dead. He nervously pinched at the skin around his fingernails during the wait. His heart leapt as the phone reconnected. ‘ _You still there?_ ’

‘Yes, yes, I’m here,’ he responded breathily.

‘ _Okay, I got a match._ ’

‘Really?’

‘ _Yah, one Dean Winchester, Lawrence, Kansas,_ ’ she announced. Castiel beamed at the mention of the name only to be stopped short as the woman continued speaking, ‘ _…deceased._ ’

Castiel’s stomach dropped and his mouth gaped open.

‘ _Hello_?’ the woman grumbled.

‘Oh… Uh...’ Cas gulped and blinked away the stinging in his eyes. ‘Th-thank you for your… for your assistance.’

‘ _Yep_ ,’ she said before hastily ending the call. Castiel didn’t even register her rude manner, continuing to stare at the wall in front of him.

‘Excuse me?’ a small voice sounded from behind him. He turned around and looked at the little girl. ‘Are you finished?’

‘Oh! Yes, sorry,’ Cas mumbled, replacing the phone on its hook and exiting the building. His grip on his bag tightened as he strode down the street, heading back to his house. He didn’t go inside; he simply unlocked his car and got in, instantly starting it up.

‘I’m too late,’ he chanted under his breath. His eyes prickled but he refused to let himself cry. The radio was playing an unknown rock song on full volume as he sped down the roads, the summer sun beating down on the tarmac. Castiel's teeth were clamped together and his knuckles were white as he held the steering wheel.

The sun slowly sank during the journey but Castiel paid little to no attention to his surroundings, only occasionally looking at the road signs to give him a brief idea of where he was. Finally, he arrived in Lawrence, time running away from him. He circled the town until he found the cemetery. He parked haphazardly outside the stone entryway and breathed in deeply. After a quick glance at his watch – 7:08PM – he got out of the car, joints creaking slightly. He stared at the nearest tombstones for a moment before advancing. Too many of his friends had died recently and he was used to the feeling of loss within the cemetery gates, where he’d soon reside.

His weakened eyes raked over the headstones, desperately searching for The Name. Castiel’s breath became ragged, bogged down with an intense feeling of despair.

‘Where are you?’ he whispered. Despite the softness of his voice, it carried and rang out in the deathly silence of the graveyard. He winced but continued walking. Eventually a plain gravestone caught his eye. He looked at it, focused on it and gasped; Dean Winchester. He’d died two years prior with nothing on his headstone but a name, a date and a tiny quote: ‘So it goes’.

‘Vonnegut,’ Castiel choked out before making his way over to Dean’s allocated plot of land. He stared down and the grave and finally allowed himself to shed a tear, a tear for what he’d lost before he’d gained, for what could’ve been. ‘I feel like I know you,’ Cas began. ‘I feel like… I don’t know. Why… _God_ ,’ Castiel rubbed a hand over his aged face and placed the other on his hip.

He hadn’t noticed there was someone behind him until they spoke up. ‘How did you know him?’

Castiel whipped around and gulped, taking in the tall man. He looked slightly younger than himself and had longish grey hair that looked soft to the touch. His eyes screamed honesty and warmth, obvious wisdom and past hurt. Cas swallowed again and then cleared his throat, wiping his eyes.

‘Uh, I… I didn’t.’

The other man squinted at Castiel and frowned. ‘Then why are you here?’

‘I…’ Cas deliberated on whether to tell the blunt stranger before giving in. ‘I’m his soulmate,’ he croaked, voice hoarse.

The man’s eyes widened and he stumbled back slightly as if the words physically affected him. ‘Shit.’

‘What?’

‘Dean’s… Dean’s soulmate?’

‘Yes,’ Castiel replied, dabbing at his eyes again with his fingertips.

‘Where the hell were you?’ The man sounded bitter for a moment before shaking his head. ‘Sorry, I… I just wish you hadn’t waited until he was six feet under to friggin’ show up.’

‘I was living with my wife in Pontiac. I met her before I got my tattoo and she got hers. We weren’t meant to be… but she was pregnant.’

‘Oh…’ The man trailed off, stunned.

‘I only found out about… Dean… today. I just… needed to know who they were before I died and… God, I’m just-’

‘I know, I get it,’ the man said, stepping forward a little. He pursed his lips before properly introducing himself. ‘I’m Sam. Sam Winchester. Dean was my brother.’

‘Well, I’m sorry for your loss,’ Castiel murmured feebly, turning around to face the stone again. ‘My name is Castiel Novak.’

‘I could tell you about Dean,’ Sam blurted. ‘If you want to know about him, I could tell you.’

Cas looked at Sam again before nodding minutely. ‘Yes please. I’d like that very much.’

*

They made their way to a diner close by and ordered black coffees. The plastic covered booths squeaked underneath them and the smell of greasy food filled their nostrils. Neither of the men spoke until the mugs of hot coffee were placed in front of them. Cas emptied two packets of sugar into his whilst Sam drank his without.

‘How did he…’ Cas began, gesturing with his hand as a replacement for finishing his sentence.

‘Die?’ Castiel nodded and Sam followed suit. ‘Well, it’s kind of a long story.’

‘Please tell me.’

‘Sure,’ Sam responded, gulping down some of the hot drink before beginning. ‘Dean was seventy when he died. He… he killed himself. He’d always planned it to be then,’ Sam’s voice became bitter again and he shook his head as he talked. ‘In his twenties and early thirties he was a… _bachelor_ , I guess. Had sex with anyone and everyone. Then he hit thirty four and there was the tattoo. He only told me about it, no one else. You don’t just go ‘round telling people you’ve just found out your soulmate’s floating about somewhere in the world, do you? Anyway, that was a turning point for him. He figured he’d just run into them one day and then he’d spend the rest of his life with them. See, Dean was always scared of commitment so that revelation… I couldn’t believe my brother was actually going to be serious about settling down.

‘So after he got the tattoo, he was certain he’d find his soulmate. _Certain_. So he stopped sleeping around. Stopped being Dean really. Well, not entirely, he just stopped being the “sex, alcohol and gambling is 90% of my personality” Dean.’

Sam smirked and Castiel chuckled. Sam’s gaze dropped to the coffee cup and he began to turn it around, fiddling with it to keep his hands busy.

‘And, uh, when, well _you_ didn’t show up he just got… bad. Depressed. It got so damn bad and it hurt so much to see the guy that practically raised me just get so down… Sorry,’ Sam coughed to cover the raw emotion in his voice. Castiel instantly felt guilty, putting two brothers through that kind of pain, even unknowingly. He felt the urge to comfort Sam but didn’t get the opportunity as Sam powered on.

‘So he said, and I quote, “if they don’t fucking show up before I’m seventy, I’m ending it, Sam, I swear”. This was when he was about fifty so he could still laugh it off, just expecting you’d show up long before that milestone rolled around but, uh…’

Cas hung his head and stared at the black liquid in his mug. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘No!’ Sam said fiercely. ‘No, don’t apologise, it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known. No, I get it, you had a family.’

Castiel nodded slowly and took a sip of his now tepid coffee. ‘Well if I had known-‘

‘-You’d have been there.’

A comfortable silence settled between the two men. They sipped their respective drinks and gazed at the other patrons of the diner. Sam was the one to break the quiet.

‘I visit the cemetery every day.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah. Every day at seven.’

‘Why seven?’

Sam focused his now emotionless eyes on Castiel. ‘Because that’s the exact time Dean shot himself.’

Castiel bit back a gasp and quickly swigged some coffee. ‘God.’

Sam smirked without humour. ‘Yeah. I made a promise to myself that I’d visit him. Every day. I’ve got nothing else to do so nothing gets in the way.’

‘Don’t you have a family?’ Cas questioned cautiously. Sam shook his head almost violently.

‘No. My wife, Jessica, died in a fire about twenty years back. She was my soulmate. Haven’t found anyone else since, of course.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Cas said again, thoughts clouding with apology and sadness for the Winchesters, for the Winchester in front of him and the pain he’d suffered, and for the dead one who’d been so alone.

‘You don’t need to be… you apologise too much.’ Sam smiled fondly.

‘You’re not the first person to tell me that,’ Cas chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Sam observed the action.

‘Dean used to do that. All the time.’

‘Should I… not do that then?’

Sam snickered and leaned over the table to push Castiel’s shoulder. ‘Jesus, dude, you can do whatever the hell you want.’

Castiel laughed nervously before toying with a dog-eared corner of a diner menu. ‘I don’t think I caught what date he died.’

‘He died on his birthday,’ Sam said softly.

Cas’ eyes squeezed shut and he pressed his lips together tightly. Sam continued.

‘That’s why I found him. I was supposed to go over to his around at eight. We were gonna have… we were gonna have drinks at his and I was gonna make him burgers even though we both knew his body couldn’t handle fast food anymore. But, uh, when I got there…’ Sam lifted his hands up a little before clasping them together and replacing them. ‘Blood. And a note.’

‘Fuck,’ Cas cursed, chewing at his bottom lip. Instead of dwelling on Dean's death, Castiel decided to focus on his living features and qualities. ‘Tell me more about Dean.’

Sam smiled a little. ‘This’ll take a while…’

*

Cas felt like he completely knew his soulmate through Sam’s words. Of course, he didn’t, not really, he’d never learn the intricate thoughts of Dean. He’d stalled too long. Castiel found himself loving everything about the man. They were both different from one another but the painful thing was, he knew they’d have worked.

Dean had waited, hoping to run into Cas without checking the registers, without interfering, hoping desperately that he’d meet his soulmate, fall in love.

‘Thank you so much, Sam,’ Cas uttered as they stepped out of the diner and into the now chilly night air.

‘I’m glad I could meet you, Cas.’ Sam hesitated before adding, ‘Dean would’ve loved you.’

‘From what I’ve heard, the feeling would be mutual,’ Castiel replied sadly. He placed a hand on Sam’s bicep and bid the man goodbye before turning on his heel and walking back towards the cemetery and his car.

‘Cas! Wait!’ Sam called, going to catch up with the retreating figure. Cas stopped and faced Sam again.

‘Yes, Sam?’

Sam’s face contorted for a moment before he dug into one of his jacket’s side pockets and retrieved a creased piece of paper.

‘What’s that?’

Sam held it out towards Cas and then responded, ‘Dean’s suicide note.’


	2. A Lonely Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be the final chapter but I'm going to add another I think.

Castiel closed his eyes and breathed in. ‘Sam, I can’t-‘

‘You deserve to have it,’ Sam interrupted earnestly. ‘He wanted you to have it. I know he would have.’

‘Please…’

‘No, you have to take it,’ he insisted, pushing the paper into one of Castiel’s limp hands. Cas weakly grasped the paper and turned away from Sam.

‘I can’t.’

‘Yes you can. At least go to your car and read it. Read it for Dean. And if you still don’t want it, come to this address,’ Sam said, scribbling on another piece of paper. He handed it to Cas.

‘I should go,’ he whispered before briskly walking away from the taller man. His breaths were shallow and laboured all the way back to his car, the two sheets of paper in his hand feeling like they weighed a tonne. The inside of the car felt impossibly cold when he got in, condensation puffing from his mouth with every pant. He shivered and opened up the letter, noticing the blood splatter in the top right hand corner. The writing was slightly slanted and desperate, a panicked scrawl from a broken man.

**_Sam,_ **

**_I’m tired, Sammy. You knew this was coming. I know you did. I’ve been waiting so damn long for this, so damn long. And you know what? I’m sick of it. I’m too old now anyway to even try to spend time with this ‘soulmate’. I waited too long. I was too fucking scared maybe, I don’t know._ **

**_If you ever find them, tell them about how even though I don’t know them, I love them. I know I love them. I would fucking die for them, obviously._ **

**_When you find me, Sam, don’t blame yourself. You did the best you could. I was just a lost cause. An old man, an old_ lonely _man. And I’m sorry I put you through so much shit. I’m sorry I was a terrible brother and I’m sorry I’m not gonna be around anymore. I’m sorry. So fucking sorry._**

**_Hey, would you look at that. 6:51. Less than ten minutes to go now, Sammy. Only ten more minutes._ **

**_I love you, little brother._ **

‘God,’ Cas grit out, pressing his fingers into his eyes, trying to halt the flow of moisture. ‘Why wasn’t I there?!’

The shivers coursing through his body picked up and his teeth began to chatter. He froze when he thought he heard a whisper next to his ear. ‘Cas.’

‘Who’s there?’ Castiel asked, eyes wide. As soon as he’d spoken, the cold vanished and the car’s heating kicked in. ‘The hell?’

Castiel blinked a few times before coughing and placing the papers in the glove compartment. Despite the dark sky and the late time, he began the long lonely drive back to Pontiac and away from his soulmate.

*

‘Castiel?’ Amelia gasped, clutching her nightgown around her. ‘What are you doing back? It’s four in the morning.’

Cas dipped his head and stared at his scuffed shoes and then looked up at his aged wife. ‘He… he died, Amelia. He’s gone.’

Amelia’s mouth dropped open and she gathered her husband in a hug. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I know you are. I am too,’ Cas mumbled into her hair.

‘Who was… _he_?’

‘Dean. Dean Winchester. He was a retired mechanic, a doting older brother and… a lonely soul.’

Amelia pressed her lips together and rubbed Cas’ arms. ‘It’s terrible you didn’t find him sooner.’

‘It’s fucking tragic, that’s what,’ he growled under his breath.

‘Cas,’ Amelia started softly, ’come inside and let’s sit down.’

Castiel sighed and allowed himself to be pulled into the house by Amelia.

‘Tea?’

‘Please,’ he replied, sinking into the familiar cushions of the sofa. His eyes slipped shut as he listened intently to Amelia’s movements in the kitchen. ‘Can we go upstairs?’ he asked, voice only just carrying over the sound of the kettle.

Cas didn’t wait for an answer, getting up off the couch and trudging upstairs. He slid under the covers of his and Amelia’s shared bed and curled into the foetal position. Amelia joined him not long after, mirroring his position under the covers and looking him in the eyes with deep understanding. She didn’t broach the subject of Dean straight away, something that Cas was grateful for.

‘Claire’s going to visit next week,’ she murmured. Cas nodded.

‘It’ll be nice to see her again.’

‘She’s so grown up, isn’t she?’

‘Yes.’

Cas’ eyes closed but he continued to talk about trivial things with his wife. She was distracting him, he knew it, but he was glad of it, glad to be able to have a conversation with her, glad to be with someone who cared.

The note he’d placed in his pocket before entering the house burned a hole in the material of his jeans, a constant reminder of what he was trying to avoid with his and Amelia’s inconsequential chatter.

Slowly, in the middle of discussing nothing, Castiel managed to fall asleep, his wife at his side and Dean plaguing his mind.

*

When Castiel awoke, he noticed he was alone in the bed and stiff from wearing his everyday clothes to sleep. He stretched and let his old bones crack before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the wrinkled paper. He looked at Sam’s address and sighed but frowned at the shiny feel of the other side of the paper. He sucked in a gulp of air when he saw what it was.

Sam was in the photograph looking so much younger, a lot more carefree. His hair was brown and his clothes were muddied, probably from the forest he appeared to be in. He and the man next to him both had rifles slung over their shoulders but the weapons contrasted with their happy faces. With a start, Castiel realised that the man next to Sam was _Dean_. Cas guessed the photo had been taken a little before he gained his tattoo and became depressed. Dean looked handsome, all rough and genuine too. His sandy hair was in disarray and his eyes shone bright green in the dappled light filtering through the trees above him.

Cas smiled faintly at the image and clutched it close. His eyes watered but he blinked away the tears, instead choosing to get up and shrug on a sweater; the room was incredibly cold, a lot like the car had been the day before outside the cemetery.

‘Amelia?’ Cas called. After hearing no response, Cas walked down the stairs, cursing because of the pain in his joints. He reached the bottom of the stairs and continued to the kitchen. First he noticed the spilled coffee coating the floor and then he saw the crumpled figure of his wife lying in the middle of the liquid. Castiel stared blankly at her for a moment before sinking slowly to his knees. ‘No.’


	3. Goodbye

Amelia’s funeral was held on a Thursday. Claire, Jimmy and Castiel watched in silence as the coffin was lowered. She’d died of a stroke, falling and hitting her head on the kitchen counter.

‘Dad-‘

‘Don’t, Claire,’ Castiel muttered.

Claire nodded and bit at her bottom lip. Claire’s husband held onto her hand and Cas looked at the pair longingly. His gaze then flicked to his son wrapped protectively around his respective soulmate and something shattered inside him.

‘I have to go,’ he rasped.

‘Wait, dad!’ Claire called after him, her brow creasing with concern.

Castiel ignored his daughter and marched across the cemetery, finding a bench on the outskirts. He sat and heaved a sigh, dropping his face into his hands. He barley flinched when his daughter gently placed a hand on his back.

‘I think you should be there for the rest of it,’ she murmured, voice soothing and quiet, just like always.

‘Tell me, Claire, sweetheart, is it really worth it?’ Cas said, lifting his head up to look at the gloomy sky above him.

Claire drew her hand back and gulped, looking down at the sparse grass under her feet. ‘I have a feeling you don’t just mean attending your wife’s funeral.’

‘You were always so smart, Claire. We’ve always been so proud of you, you know that, don’t you?’

The blonde girl’s head snapped up again and she stared at her father, scanning his profile. ‘Don’t you dare do something… something stupid, don’t you dare.’

‘Why?’

Claire seemed outraged at his answer. ‘Because you’re my father and I love you!’

‘You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.’

‘No! No I won’t be okay! Do you think it’s _okay_ for me and Jimmy to watch our parents get buried? Do you think it’s _okay_ that I didn’t even get to tell mom that she was gonna be a grandmother before she suddenly wasn’t going to be around anymore?!’

Castiel reacted to that, staring glassily at his daughter. ‘You’re pregnant?’

Claire nodded sullenly and turned away again, digging the thin pointed heels of her light blue shoes into the soft earth. ‘I was going to tell you… going to tell you both when I visited.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah. Oh.’

They sat in silence for a moment before Castiel drew in a breath to talk with a wrecked voice. ‘Claire, will you do something for me?’

‘Anything.’

‘Make sure your child finds their soulmate. Make sure they’re as happy as you are. You do that and I’d be the happiest man in the world.’

A single tear slipped from Claire’s eye as she vehemently nodded. ‘Yes, daddy, of course.’

Castiel’s smile became bitter and regretful. He leaned in and kissed his daughter’s hair. ‘I love you, Claire. You and Jimmy deserve so much.’

‘Dad, don’t go. Please don’t go.’

Cas’ breath came out in puffs as the temperature seemed to drop, the only warm part of Castiel’s body was a patch on his shoulder, almost like a phantom touch of comfort.

‘Goodbye, Claire. Enjoy the rest of the ceremony.’

Cas pushed himself slowly off the bench and made his way out of the cemetery, content that his daughter wasn’t following him this time. He started up his car with shaky hands and blurred vision. If he crashed, so be it.

_‘Cas.’_

He shook his head and edges the car forward before pelting forward, away from Pontiac and back to Lawrence.

*

‘Cas?’ Sam asked, stepping aside to let the tired man in. ‘Not that I’m not happy to see you but… what are you doing here?’

‘My wife died.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Sam replied instantly, mechanical, and Cas couldn’t find it in himself to feel hurt. He hummed lowly in agreement.

‘It was a shock.’

Sam lifted an eyebrow and took in the other man’s rumpled appearance. ‘Can I get you anything?’

Cas simply shook his head and looked down at the carpet.

‘Do you wanna… talk?’

‘I don’t… I don’t know.’

‘Whenever you’re ready, man, I’m here, okay?’

Cas nodded and closed his eyes. ‘I still feel guilty, you know. I know you said I shouldn’t feel that way but I can’t stop it.’

‘Nothing I say will affect the way you feel, but-‘

‘Ever since you gave me Dean’s letter I’ve never felt alone.’

Sam’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and he looked uncomfortable. A small smile began to play at his lips.

‘I’m glad.’

‘It’s strange.’

‘Yeah, I guess it is, huh.’

Castiel frowned at the taller man. ‘Do you need to tell me anything about why this is happening?’

Sam appeared to have an internal debate before answering Castiel. ‘Sit down. Sit down and I’ll tell you.’

*

‘Our dad was… kind of insane. He was eventually put in a mental institution. Fucked Dean up pretty bad; he idolised him. But, uh… He believed in… in ghosts. Demons, ghouls, you name it, he believed in it. It was scary how much, like, he’d abandon Dean and I just to research them or something.’

An uneasy feeling settled in Castiel’s stomach, a vile nausea as the words sank in.

‘It wasn’t until the old man died that I really took an interest in all the bull he was spouting. And here we are.’

‘What are you telling me.’ Cas grit out his words like a statement rather than a question.

‘I’m telling you that there’s truth to it all.’

Sam’s level gaze burned into the side of Castiel’s face. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Do you understand how- how utterly ridiculous you sound? And how I can’t process this because of-‘

‘-Because of recent events, I know. But… Christ, you should know, okay? You should know because Dean’s your soulmate. Hell, _Dean_ deserves for you to know.’

‘Fucking know what?!’ Cas screamed, fixing his confused, intense glare on Sam.

Sam’s eyes flicked their focus between each of Cas’ eyes as if searching for something. ‘You should know that… that Dean’s haunting you. His blood’s on the page and he’s haunting you.’

Cas stared at the other man levelly before standing up as quickly as his old bones would allow and dashed out of the back door. He barely registered Sam calling his name as he retrieved his father’s lighter from his back pocket and Dean’s suicide note. The flames flickered instantly and licked at the crinkled paper before he dropped it to the ground. The fire guzzled the stained paper as it twisted and blackened on the patio.

‘ _Cas_ ,’ the warm familiar voice murmured in his ear. It sounded like goodbye.

‘No.’

Sam didn’t scream but his voice was broken, filled with pain and disbelief. It reminded Castiel of when he’d found his wife lying cold on the floor of the kitchen barely two weeks before. The wrecked sound of Sam’s voice resonated through him but he just stared at the burning page on the concrete.

‘I’m sorry,’ he echoed Sam’s earlier words in the same tone; mechanical, a reflex response.

‘Why?’ Sam whispered hoarsely.

Castiel turned his sad eyes on the taller man and pressed his lips together. ‘We need to let go.’ He shrugged slightly and turned his blue eyes back to the faltering orange glow.

Sam stayed silent for what seemed like hours before uttering a quiet, ‘I think you should leave.’

Cas saw the old man’s cheeks were tear streaked and that he needed someone in that moment but he simply nodded and made his way back inside and through the house to the front door. ‘Goodbye, Sam.’

He chuckled without humour as he realised how often he’d been letting people go recently. His heart ached and he felt alone. As soon as he got into his car, he pulled out the phone he hated so much and dialled the number of the only person he could bear to speak to. She picked up after barely two rings.

‘ _Dad? Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick!_ ’

Cas dipped his head and smiled at her concern. ‘Hello, Claire. I think I… I think I need some help.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so that's it! Uh... I think it all ended weirdly really. I might look over it again and alter it because it just... Well, I'm not happy with it but I thought I'd post it anyway. I'm technically finished with this fic but it's just... it's making me feel weird because there's just something not right about it... I don't know. I hope you enjoyed it anyway :)


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